Don't Laugh At Me
by PinkRangerV
Summary: Another not-a-songfic inspired by Mark Will's Don't Laugh At Me. Trent's alone, and it's not his fault...but he can't keep everyone from hating him. AU. No pairing.


A\N: I should not listen to Mark Wills.

* * *

"Freak."

That one word makes me want to scream.

Lately Conner's been saying it to me every time he sees me. He's been trying to make me quit, trying to make me just give up and go home.

I would. But I can't.

In our world, the choice is between Mesegog and the Rangers. Mesegog rejected me. I have nothing else, no one else. I'm already homeless, trying to avoid a father who could kill me.

I'm caught in the middle. And everyone hates me for it.

I want to kill someone--most likely me--every time Ethan mutters something about trust, or Conner calls me a name, or Dr. O says, in that thrice-damned 'reasonable' tone, "We're just not sure if we can trust you, Trent."

Do you think I don't know that?

Do you think I _chose_ this?

I want to tear my gem off. I've tried leaving it. But I can't--it calls me. It pulls me to it. The longer I stay away, the worse I get. It's not pain, just exhaustion, weirdness, so I keep the gem on.

Sometimes I just walk around the city, over and over, mapping it out, exploring, trying to keep myself sane. But I can't. I'm not sane.

I end up alone then.

Tonight, I'm alone.

I can't talk to anyone out here, because I could be anywhere. Without daylight, I don't know where I am, and I want to survive tonight. But I need to talk to someone, to anyone, just to be considered human.

Please...

I cut off the begging in my mind. Another part of my heart freezes over. I let it. Better safe than dead.

I wonder how long it'll take before I'm torn to shreds. Before I die in battle, kill myself, before something ends this.

Please let it be soon.

I hear voices and step closer, hiding in the shadows. I can hear words. A conversation.

"...and Suze, she says," a drunken giggle, "she says, I'm the queen of Sheba...or somethin'...whassisstuff?"

I give up, standing and turning away.

Forget this.

I walk angrily through the streets. I'm gonna be exhausted at school. I like the idea, the idea that someone might notice, might help me. But I can't afford help. The world can't.

I'm the White Ranger.

I wonder idly how much more of my life will be wrecked by this damn rock. Not like I have one now...

"Trent?"

I blink. What the hell? I could swear that's Dr. O...but what's he doing down here?

I back away, ready to run. He knows me. He's dangerous.

"Trent, what are you doing here?"

"Dr. O?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Trent, you should be asleep."

Where, exactly, am I supposed to do that, Oh Wise One? "Gee, thanks. I'll keep that in mind." Next time you wreck my life. I'm outta here.

"Trent. Wait."

I pause. Instinct and the need to be liked, to be approved of, battle inside me.

Why do I do this? What's the point? Who the hell will care if I pander to them?

Why do I torture myself like this?

"Trent, why aren't you at home?" Great. The Teacher Voice. Is it supposed to make me want to talk to you, Dr. O? Cause that's the tone my dad gets before he starts trying to kill me.

"Because my dad hates my guts?" I tell him. "Maybe because, oh, yeah, he saw me _with you_ and thought I was betraying him?"

Oops. Too much info. Gee, Dr. O, mind forgetting some of that for me?

"Your dad won't let you go home?" Dr. O asks, shock in his voice.

"He would. I'd be dead tomorrow. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to wander around a little more so I can forget the fact that I hate your guts." And maybe not freeze to death. Walking at night in January--not reccomended.

"How long have you been out here?"

"All day."

"I mean, how long have you been homeless?"

I whirl on him. "Why do you care? Why do you give a damn? What gives, Dr. O? One second, you and Conner are acting like I_ wanted_ to kill you--no, by the way, I never did--and the next you're all Teacher on me?" I sigh frusteratedly. "Look, just give it a freaking rest. You hate me. Fine. So does everyone but Kira. And you know, I'm getting used to it. So if you could just leave me alone, I'd _really_ appreciate it."

Dr. O looks shocked. Then he says, "Trent?"

"What?"

"I don't hate you."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Conner...he's Conner. He's like that with Ethan, too. But I don't hate you. I never did. You're a Ranger and my teammate, and you're a good kid."

"Then why do you keep acting like I'm some kind of traitor?" I demand softly.

Dr. O shakes his head. "I...I wasn't trying to. I'm sorry if I did. Trent...can you please let me at least get you out of here? This is the worst place in the world for a kid."

"Why're you here, then?" I challenge.

Dr. O grins wryly. "Uh...don't tell anyone."

"Sure." If it's not revenge-worthy.

"I got lost."

I crack up.

"Glad you think it's funny."

"Yep." I tell him. "Hilarious."

"Come on, Trent." Dr. O says. "Let's see if I can get us out of here."

I sigh.

I'm such a moron.

"Fine."

Maybe...

Maybe I won't always hate them.

Maybe someday they'll like me, too.


End file.
